The Terrestrial Corruption Paradigm
by Aea
Summary: Wendy Watson: Balancing a boyfriend, boss, and roommate, with all threats intra-, extra- and juxta-terrestrial while wearing heels. Oh yeah- and she's almost positive she's not evil.


This story was started in honor of CERN turning on the Large Hadron Collider today. I had promised myself that I wouldn't start another project until I finished everything I have that's already in progress, but I couldn't ignore such a momentous occasion in science. What's better to celebrate science than science fiction?

Takes place after The Palindrome Reversal Palindrome. I know it's a little dialogue heavy, but I feel like so much of the show's character is derived from the great writing, and of course, masterful delivery by its lead actors. Since this isn't an action heavy chapter, I wanted to play around with trying some fast-paced dialogue. Let me know if you enjoy!

The Terrestrial Corruption Paradigm

Chapter 1: You, A Dollar, and An Evil Twin. (Things I Wish I Had)

THREE DAYS AFTER WENDY RETURNED FROM AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE THAT IS SLIGHTLY MORE EVIL THAN OUR OWN

Archive Room, Middleman HQ

Wendy Watson watched her boss move about the Archive room, arm muscles straining as he shifted a group of boxes, and grinned. Her arms were like twigs next to his. She was proud of her Sensei Ping honed asskicking skills, but any good Middleman-in-training knew when to play the helpless girl card to get out of hard labor.

Pulling out every piece of Middle-lore for long overdue digital archiving was both a blessing and a curse. Nice in that it probably meant less fruitless hours leafing through old and smelly records for the secret weakness for the next lame Condiment King-caliber villain. Not-so-nice because right now it required hauling out said old and smelly records for scanning.

"Shouldn't Ida do this for us? Given that, you know, she doesn't need to _sleep_ or _eat_ or anything." Ida hadn't moved from her stance at the end of the table for a full six hours, and Wendy had been fighting boredom after the first thirty minutes.

"Getting the munchies, Mary Jane?" Ida didn't look up from her current scan, but still delivered the remark with her usual effectiveness.

"Aw, and I thought the Scarecrow was the only one who needed a brain." Wendy responded, full of false sympathy.

"Bet he wouldn't last long around here before you lit up." Wendy idly wondered whether or not she preferred her own version of Ida to her alternate universe counterpart. Sure, Pseudo-Ida was nice, helpful, and better looking, but there was something about their twisted banter that brought a bitter little ray of sunshine into her day.

But that had been one of few things that she's enjoyed about her journey into the mirror world. She had never really been afraid of being stuck in a parallel universe. Not in a real, oh-holy-BLEEP-I'll-never-survive-it kind of way. She had been afraid that she would never be here, doing this, _seeing_ _him_ again. The Middleman; _the real_ Middleman.

She'd been shocked about how different the two were. Until the moment she's returned and found the bracelet in her pocket, she'd been pretty convinced that Middleman2 was nothing more than a selfish pig. She had seen flashes of similarity in Lacey, Noser, and hell, even sort of preferred mirror Pip. She could have been friends with those people, knowing that somehow she'd find who she needed in them. Everyone, even her friends, had pieces of dark and light, shades of gray scaled by experience and choice. But the disparity between the Middlemen was second only to the difference between…herselves. The idea that she might never be so close to someone so good ever again had bothered more than she would like to admit. Speaking of which…

"I'm totally pissed at Evil Pip! He-"

"Dubbie," The disembodied voice chastised from behind a stack of paper. "Just because they were from an alternate reality with markedly different political, economic, and sartorial norms does not make _everyone_ there inherently evil. You yourself have commented on the decidedly not-evil nature of several-"

"Ha! I knew you wouldn't be able to let go of those chaps." Wendy trumpeted. "But I was talking about our Pip. I'm positive that he put something foul smelling in my hallway this morning. Can I use the Real Time Situation Recording Archive to prove it?"

"The very notion that you need to find proof indicates that you are not, in fact, positive. No."

"Even if it means that Lacey will be stalking him until she gets revenge?" The Middleman's head appeared from around the pile of boxes, and Wendy knew the ensuing look meant that it was time to shut up._ Stupid, stupid girl. Why would you bring that up? _ "Well, it was worth a shot."

They worked in near silence for a short while: the Middleman hauling boxes and books in and out of the room, while Wendy arranged piles of books, notes, and paperwork with detailed coversheets for Ida to scan into her database. A beep from the table pulled Wendy's attention to her cell phone as Ida eyed her warily ("Your dealer?"). She waited until the android was forced to move further back into the room to assist with a particularly heavy box before picking it up. One missed call from Tyler; one new message.

_Hey Dubs. Things will probably run a little late tonight, I'm so sorry. Can we push dinner back to 8:30 or 9? I'll call the restaurant. Hope you're having more fun than I am!_

Admittedly, even after the whole soul-cleaning, roommate-bonding, parallel-universe-swapping catharsis Wendy Watson had recently undergone, she still had some concerns that her boyfriend might morph into a Tennis-bracelet guy. Or possibly something even less pleasant. After all, if his evil universe counterpart were a brave and self-sacrificing Middleboy, it felt like there was a lot of room in this one for him to become evil corporate guy.

The diamond bracelet sparkled happily on her wrist opposite the Middlewatch, quietly content with being ridiculously expensive. She loved the slim bauble in all its shiny, bartering-power glory. She kinda loved the guy who gave it to her. It was sweet that he wanted to buy her diamonds. But for the love of everything holy, couldn't he have made it earrings or a necklace? It was starting to drive her crazy in the morning: which accessory did she wear on which hand? Or should she wear them both together? Did that make a statement about balancing work and personal time?

She was hopeless at this kind of thing under the best of circumstances, and she was nowhere near her best these days.

She _should_ be happy. She had more proof than anyone that she wasn't the evil twin. Her counterpart had really been by far the evilest of all evil-universe people she'd met. That had to mean that she was a _really, really_ good person in this one, but that felt like a lot of pressure. Not to mention that if she really believed that, then she was practically damming Tyler already.

The Middleman returned from the depths of the stacks, sans Ida. "Penny for your thoughts, Dubbie? You look troubled."

He gave a standard dorky smile, and she was caught up in a sudden outpouring of words. "Does it make me a terrible person that I'm not convinced being only good is so much better than being irredeemably bad?"

"I'm… not convinced either one of those things even exists on their own."

"No? You don't think you stand for all that's good in the world?"

"That's not me and it's not really the job, either. I like to think I do things in the best way possible, but I'm not Superman. I framed you for arson, remember? And if I had it to do over, I think I'd do it again."

"I guess, but- Hey! You _think?_"

The Middleman just grinned.

"I'm sure you two are having some sort of cutesy moment," Ida's face broke in over the watch, somehow having managed to get downstairs without notice, "But I don't really care. Redball. Get moving."

* * *

EIGHT MINUTES LATER

Middlemobile, En Route to Latest Disaster

"You know, you never answered my question."

"You never answer _any_ of my questions. What question are you talking about?"

"Barry Allen or Wally West?"

"I swear to God, if you ask me about the The Flash one more time, I _will_ bust out River of Pain on you. BLEEP the beaver." There was an awkward moment of silence that stretched across the Middlemobile. "I mean, that thing about the teeth and the table and…You know what? Forget I said anything." _Way to be the not-evil one, Wendy!_

The Middleman cleared his throat and checked the rearview mirror to avoid eye contact. "Perhaps we should focus on the problem at hand, Dubbie. Mark Clyde is a 32 year old male, currently under observation at Metro General Hospital after being struck by high-intensity lightning last night. We need to find out how that happened."

"The fact that there weren't any thunderstorms last night notwithstanding, I'm pretty sure any middle school science teacher could handle that."

"It's unlikely to be natural in origin. That sort of lightning is rare, but _can_ strike large distances away from its spawning cloud. However, HEYDAR detected an unusual abundance of strikes in the same area last night, and no system within a reasonable distance that could have caused it."

"Weird, but it still doesn't exactly sound like our type of gig."

"Also, Clyde is a physicist. He was inside of a well-grounded lab at the time."

"Oh BLEEP." Wendy's head fell back against the seat. "Are you telling me that we're facing a _Weather Wizard_?"

The Middleman frowned at her use of the expletive, but Wendy only grinned back unrepentantly. It was good for him to face a little adversity, she was sure, so it wasn't really evil of her to swear so much.

* * *

ONE FALSE I.D. ENABLED INTERVIEW AND FIVE HOURS OF STARING AT A COMPUTER SCREEN LATER

Corridor to the illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist.

"Yo, Wendy Watson."

"Hey Noser."

"What did she say to me?"

"The problem's all inside your head."

"And what could she do?"

"Explain about the fifty ways to leave your lover."

"Right on." Noser didn't move from his spot in the hallway, but tilted his head toward Wendy's door. His eyes pleaded with her. "Tell me you'll keep that in mind."

"Great." Wendy pushed her key into the lock and gave it a shove. "Just what I wanted to hear."

* * *

RUNNING WAY TOO LATE FOR DINNER TO DEAL WITH THIS KIND OF BLEEP

The illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist.

Lacey had brought various and sundry men into the illegal sublet they shared before. Wendy usually ignored any and all indications of said man and whatever activity he and Lacey may be engaged in, for the sake of everyone involved. However, Wendy's strange work hours being what they were, and Lacey being who she is, Wendy had had occasion to get an eyeful. She often hoped that her boss would never drop by unexpectedly.

Still, all of that was the nature of living in a loft with a roommate, and Wendy didn't really feel like she could complain when she had a room of her own and Lacey partitioned off her bed with rolling clothes racks.

But this…_this…_

"Oh BLEEP BLEEP!" Wendy stood totally still, feeling paralyzed. "Get the BLEEP off my roommate you BLEEP piece of BLEEP."

Half of the not-dressed pair on the table scrambled for clothing and the door, as Wendy growled and made to chase after him. Lacey stood and lazily pulled her skirt back up. "Chill out, Dub Dub. I'm a big girl."

"_Lacey!_ That was _Pip!_"

* * *

The title is taken from song lyrics by Billie Holiday, Uncle Kracker, and The Magnetics Fields. The song referenced by Noser and Wendy is '50 Ways to Leave Your Lover' by Paul Simon.

In the spirit of the show, I'll try to keep a running list of references for this chapter to post with the next one. I'll also try to have another part out soon, but I really am trying to finish my other stuff first. Still, the Middleman muses keeping calling to me, and I'm really excited about where I want to take this story. My planned chapters are shorter than what I'm used to writing, so I'm hoping to be able to get them out a little faster than some of my other stories.


End file.
